Memorial Day
by fantasy137
Summary: "It is not becoming to dwell on past sorrows, but it is very becoming to place it in a pure gold chest and lock it away, so you may continue with your life." Frank may not be American, but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate Memorial Day. And it definitely doesn't mean he can't grieve for his lost mother. My contribution to Memorial Day.


**Yes, I am aware that this is way after Memorial Day, but I got the idea the night before so I didn't have enough time to have it up the day of. Then this happened, and that happened, and long story short, here is my contribution to Memorial Day. Sorry for being late! AND YES, I do know that Frank is Canadian, though I'll admit that I didn't realize that till half-way through the story, but I improvised.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**Memorial Day**

_**Dedicated to those who died in war. Never forget.**_

The day she died, part of him died too. A part of him that was irreplaceable.

He held her picture. It was hard to imagine that her warm brown eyes could ever be cold and lifeless. Her black hair wouldn't be silky and soft anymore, but dry and brittle. Her smile was gone forever.

_You can be anything._ That's what she always told him. Now he understood what she had meant. But she wasn't there to ever tell him that again.

They told him that she died a hero. He knew that she died a hero. But that didn't mean he was over it. That didn't help him accept it. So what if she died a hero? She was still gone, wasn't she? Gone, away from him. Forever.

He didn't really know why it was hitting him so hard today. He was _Canadian._ His mother died while serving in the _Canadian_ army. And this was an _American _holiday. Yet for some reason, while everyone was mourning the American soldiers who died in combat, Frank was reminded of his own lost mother.

"Frank Zhang." He turned and saw Mars leaning on the closed-door. "How are you?"  
"Why do you care?" Frank asked bitterly.

"I care about my children more than you think," Mars answered. "I'm assuming you know what day it is today."

"Memorial day," Frank said, his voice strangled. "The American holiday to remember those who died while serving."

"Like your mother," Mars said. "She died a hero."

"What difference does it make if she died a hero? She's gone, that's all that matters."

"That's not true. It's better to die a hero, then a coward," Mars said solemnly.

"It's better not to die at all."

"Everyone dies eventually."

"You don't," Frank pointed out.

"I may not die, but eventually I will fade."

"Yeah, but not for a while." Frank continued to gaze at the picture. "She was barely here."

"Frank. It is not becoming to dwell on past sorrows."

"What book did you find that sentence in?" Frank asked humorlessly.

"_The Art of War,_" Mars answered. "Your mother's favorite book. I'm not normally much of a reader, but she convinced me to read it. Sun Tzu quotes 'It is not becoming to dwell on past sorrows, but it is very becoming to place it in a pure gold chest and lock it away, so you may continue with your life'. That was your mother's favorite quote. She had a locket with the words carved into the back."

"Oh," was all Frank could manage to get out as he felt another wave of sorrow washing over him, threatening to knock him down. He wanted to change into a turtle, so he could hide in his shell.

"I was looking around the spot where your mother died," Mars said quietly. "I found something that you might like." He held out his hand and a golden chain materialized. On the end was a golden circle with a little latch that indicated that it could be opened. A heart was carved on the front. Mars flipped it over, and Frank saw the miniscule words that were carved there.

_It is not becoming to dwell on past sorrows, but it is very becoming to place it in a pure gold chest and lock it away, so you may continue with your LIFE._

Mars tipped his hand over and the chain slid into Frank's hand. He closed his fingers around it, and managed a weak, "Thank you."

"I was the one who gave her that," Mars said distantly. "The third day after she had finally agreed to go out with me. I managed to get Vulcan to make it for me – I told him the inscription of course. She loved it, but she never put anything in it. She said it was because the locket was her gold chest, and she didn't have anything to put inside yet."

Frank looked up. "She didn't have any sorrow?" he asked.

"She did, but she said that they weren't big enough for the locket. The locket was for something special, she said." Mars sighed. "Like I said, I was scouting around the spot of her death today, and I found the locket. It was under a pile of rubble. I thought…well I thought that it could be your gold chest, for you to lock your sorrows in, so I put in a picture of your mother. Open it."

It took Frank a couple of tries with his big fingers, but he finally got the latch opened. Inside, he saw a picture of his mother, one that he had never seen before. She was in mid-laugh; her eyes were sparkling with carelessness. Her black hair was blowing to the side slightly. Frank stared at it.

"I – I've never seen this picture before," he mused.

"No, you haven't. I took it," Mars explained, gazing at it. "I'm not normally a deep person, but it's days like this when I actually stop to think."  
"Days like what?"

"Days that celebrate – sorry, commemorate – war. Like Memorial Day. Days to honor soldiers, to grieve for soldiers, to remember soldiers," Mars said seriously. Frank felt his heartbeat quicken.

His mother was only a memory.

"Why couldn't you have saved her?" he asked accusingly.

"How do you think she would have survived knowing that she was supposed to be dead? She wouldn't have wanted me to step in and save her. Your mother was an independent type of woman. She didn't want help from anybody. That's one of the reasons why I was attracted to her," Mars answered. "I know it's hard to understand, but…"

"I get it," Frank said, cutting his father off. "That doesn't make it easier."

"Nothing can ever possibly make this easier." The god stood up. "I have to leave now. I have other children that I must visit today."

"You have other kids whose mom's died in war?" Frank inquired.

"I am the God of War. I have a tendency to fall in love with soldiers, and not every soldier survives war," he said sadly. Frank realized that this must be an emotional day for him, but it was still weird that his dad was on his way to console other children about losing their mothers – all of whom were Mars' own kids as well. It was actually pretty gross. "Shield your eyes Frank." Through his closed eyes, Frank saw the distinct flash, and when he opened them, Mars was gone. He looked down at the picture of his mom in the locket, and carefully snapped it shut.

He was closing his gold chest. He was trying to lock it away, though it would always be there, just below the surface. It would never go away.

So despite not being _American_, he could still appreciate Memorial Day, because he understood how it felt to lose someone to war. And he could still use it as a day to remember his mother, because in the end, it really didn't matter where he was from.

Staring at the locket, he whispered, "Happy Memorial Day," though really, it was anything but happy.

* * *

**How did I do? This is my first Frank centered story, was he OOC? Give me feedback in a Review!**

**Please?**


End file.
